Twisted Ninja
by LyricalApathy
Summary: In Konoha's distant future, clans have come into great political power-- leaders of Leaf Village clans have as much corporate heresay as the Hokage. A young Genin named Tei-kon and his new friends develop into ninja under the watchful eye of these parties
1. Prologue

Prologue - Humble Beginnings

Prologue - Humble Beginnings

Run. Run as hard and as fast as your legs can possibly allow you, and then run some more. Because those who don't know what you're thinking can not possibly understand why you've done what you've done. And if they don't understand something, well, they'll try to erase it. And they'll succeed. Unless you run.

Torches pierced the cold, dark night sky with bright light and eerie warmth. There were hundreds of them-- no, thousands. Perhaps tens of thousands. They were huddled together in a massive clot of chanting and screaming that shattered the ears and broke the mind. Their strained voices, all muddled collectively into a barely distinguishable cry of anguish, tore across the once silent desert. Sands whirled restlessly and flames licked the stars. Turmoil.

Behind the mass of civilians sat a colossal wall; one that blanketed the peaceful and prosperous Wind Country's ninja village from violence both natural and artificial. Sunagakure, the place was called. But walls do nothing to prevent aggression from the inside. Not quite aggression, per se. More like misunderstanding. Unfortunately, misunderstanding is most often contagious.

The crowd's roars and jeers were getting louder now; clearer. There were "Stay away, you monster!" 's, and there were "Just leave us alone!" 's. "We hate you, Kojisuke!"

There were those, too.

About a mile further into the desert, far from the dangerous and crazed throng's reaches as well as those of the shadowed and empty Sand Village, a young boy was running across the windswept landscape. He was able to surmise that it was just before midnight by the sheer chilliness of the air: the desert, you see, was not a safe place to be at night. Not only because of the various bandits who roved the sands, preying on weak-hearted travelers, but because of the extreme drop in temperature. In fact, if it hadn't been for the thick white shawl the boy had taken from his home prior to his narrow escape, he probably would have died that night. But he didn't. He lived. So ended the tale of Kojisuke of the Sand Village, and so began the tale of Tei-kon of the Leaf.


	2. Chapter 1

A long, white shawl gently grazed the warm concrete of a Konoha road as it swayed back and forth

A long, white shawl gently grazed the warm concrete of a Konoha road as it swayed back and forth. The blank cloak was slightly tattered and looked practically ancient, especially while in comparison to the other clothing decorating the tall, teenaged boy whose shoulders it was hung about. He was hunched, the teen. Only slightly. Just enough to give him an air of eeriness that permeated the serene morning fog of early morning Konohagakure. The sun hadn't yet poked through the low-hanging clouds, rendering the entire village gloomy and calm. The Leaf was sleeping.

"Gee, it sure is quiet," remarked the boy, his words choked by the stifling haze, "But then again, that's the way I like it." His tone wasn't fitting. He sounded cheery, energetic. Seemed rather out of place in an environment like that morning's. But then, he always sounded like that. Through sealed lips he hummed, nostrils flaring ever so slightly each time he reached a high note. Navy sandals scuffed noisily against the paved road.

That morning was the dawn of the teen's first day on a three-man ninja squad. The day before, he had shown up at the ceremony, just like all the other academy students who had graduated from school. Just like them, he had been assigned to a team. Then, just like them, he had trekked home and fallen into sleep. But he was willing to make a friendly wager that none of them had dreamt of a cloaked man guiding them along a path, gradually nearing a tall, marble door…

Anyways, it was just a dream. And like all dreams Tei-kon dismissed it to the back of his clouded mind without a further thought. After all, dreams don't mean anything, right?

He was sitting now, resting his tall and awkward form against the front door of the Ninja Academy. His right leg was bent at the knee, and he was hugging it tightly to his chest. His left was splayed out lazily across the stone terrace that supported the entrance to the massive building. The shawl had been tossed across the wooden railing and was hanging there, completely still in the stiff, morning air. Tei-kon had removed his sandals and placed them in a neat pile by his side; his bare toes were now curling and uncurling every few seconds.

The lanky young shinobi was wearing his usual apparel: a black tee-shirt adorned with the white silhouette of a shuriken in the center, khaki shorts that reached down to just below his knees with two buttoned pockets on each leg, and black leather gloves. His black-as-night hair was rather unkempt: he never combed it, but somehow it still remained somewhat straight. His pale gray eyes were down-cast, his brow gently furrowed by barely noticeable black eyebrows. His pale white skin was flawless and smooth, giving him a young, well-nourished appearance. A devilish grin twisted his calm features; it looked as though he was thinking about something funny. But he probably wasn't. Really, that grin was always there.

A sigh escaped his lungs. Broke the silence.

"How long 'til this place opens up? Gosh, feels like I've been waitin' for ages!" Nariume Tei-kon was talking to himself again. It's not all that uncommon, really. Especially for the clinically insane. This morning was special; it was different from the other foggy mornings. Because this morning preceded the day on which Tei-kon and this teammates would meet their sensei. The Jounin who would become a father-figure to them, teach them, befriend them. Help them. Help him. Tei-kon was looking forward to it. And when Tei-kon is looking forward to something, well, even the shortest wait can seem like an eternity. So one minute passed. And three hours of grinning and waiting began.


	3. Chapter 2

"Nariume-san

"Nariume-san."

Tei-kon's eyes fought to adjust to the light. He blinked.

"Get up, Nariume-san."

Blinked again. Who's that? The gangly teen's pale gray eyes gazed up at a blurry figure standing over him. Then they closed. Closed tight.

"Wake up already, you idiot."

The sun was bright, real bright. Tei-kon's eyes could hardly stand it at first. He scratched his head, looking around and blinking the sleep out of his eyes. After about a half hour of waiting on the terrace, the boy had grown tired and slipped off into a deep sleep. And it was just his luck to be awoken, two and a half hours later, by the more annoying of his two new teammates.

Hyuuga Hatachi folded his arms across his chest, frowning down at his disappointing comrade. Well, what're you gonna do? Comrades can only disappoint, right? At least, that's what Hatachi always thought. He flicked a lock of his long blue-black hair out of his face, perhaps wondering why his shinobi headband had failed to hold back that particular group of strands. A grayish blue vest that was buckled three times in the front partially hid his black mesh undershirt. He wore black shorts with no pockets; a basic ninja's item bag strapped to his left hip handled that problem. Bandages were meticulously wrapped around his left forearm, and he had donned the traditional navy sandals of Konoha. Apathetic pitch black eyes bore down on Tei-kon until the Hyuuga tore away his gaze. Tei-kon guessed Hatachi had decided he didn't want to grace a down-trodden shinobi who had just woken up on the stoop of the academy with his royal sight. Instead, he took to staring at the magnificent wooden door upon which Tei-kon leaned. The golden handle of which had just begun to turn.

Tei-kon was stretching his arms and letting out a healthy yawn when the large doors swung open suddenly and knocked him clean off the terrace. The boy managed to let out a tiny yelp just before he was thrown headfirst into the neatly trimmed hedges that lined the academy's entrance, muffling him. Three Jounin stood in the doorway: you could distinguish their rank easily by their Konoha uniforms. Hatachi let his arms drop to his sides, but kept his eyes resolutely on the three shinobi. The one in the center opened his mouth to speak. The other two were scribbling furiously at their clipboards.

"I assume you're all here to meet your teachers."

Hatachi turned slightly. He was just now noticing that he and Tei-kon weren't the only two Genin present. A crowd of thirty or so young ninja had accumulated in front of the academy during the time Tei-kon had been asleep, and had taken to manifesting itself into little clumps of three. Teams. The Hyuuga snorted and turned back to face the three Jounin.

"Well, come with me. All of you." He was smiling. The middle one was. The other two? Still scribbling. And so they scribbled on, even while they turned around and began to guide the large, murmuring group into the massive interior of Konoha's Ninja Academy.

By the time Tei-kon had squirmed his way out of the hedges, brushed himself off, and run inside the building to catch up, the mass was strolling briskly down a hallway adorned every few meters with a set of doors on each side. As they walked, the middle Jounin spouted off team numbers and the rooms to which they would go to meet their new sensei. His breath was already growing short and exasperated when Tei-kon found a spot to saunter in the back of the group. Several teams had already left the group, leaving only eight ninja in the small congregation as they all walked on. Hatachi was at the front.

"Team Nine, room 16B."

Two chuckling adolescent boys and a ghostly pale girl branched off and entered a door on the left. Tei-kon yawned. Stretched his arms. Hatachi paid no heed. The group travelled on.

"Team Ten, room 18B."

A pair of giggling girls pushed a nervous wreck of a young male teen through another door on the left. Now it was just the two of them, following their three escorts through the grand halls of the school. Wait… two?

"Team Eleven, room 19A."

Tei-kon rubbed his eyes and blinked, ditching his grin and staring at the door on the right. Hatachi grabbed the doorknob, twisted quickly, pushed his way authoritatively through to the classroom on the other side, and stumbled face first into a tower of empty glass bottles. Needless to say, it was loud. Well, the bottles were loud, but what was louder was the boy, who was standing atop a step ladder, with the final bottle clutched tightly in his tiny hands.

"My tower! You.. you did this! You'll pay! I'll use some deadly jutsu on you! It'll be deadly, just you watch!" he bellowed in the most intimidating voice he could muster; which wasn't very intimidating at all, seeing as he stood at a meager four feet, four inches. He was trembling. It was somewhat pathetic to watch a small boy making a fuss over a tower of bottles, but it was funny, too. You could tell because, by now, Tei-kon was laughing. Hatachi blinked, splayed out on the floor with his back to the wood and looking, bewildered, up at the child on the ladder.

"I-it's a Saturday.. student's d-don't have to come to s-school.."

The boy stopped trembling. He tilted his little head, a curious look plastered onto his cute features. "I'm no student," he pointed out, stepping down off the ladder and really showing just how short he was. He looked about nine, maybe ten. Tei-kon was still laughing. Hatachi sat up, supporting himself by leaning back on his arms. Seeing the boy like he was now gave the Hyuuga more courage, so he tried again.

"Well, if you're not old enough yet, you shouldn't be in a place like thi--"

"I'm not a student: I'm your sensei."


End file.
